Living Dangerously - By Dee J. Adams Page 0,2

Yet.

A hint of a grin curved his lips as he ripped the bottom of his white tuxedo shirt until he had a wide strip. “Chippendales, huh?” He used that to wrap her arm. Bullets still whizzed past them. “I didn’t know they still existed.” He glanced at her before scanning the area.

Screaming sirens wailed closer as an ambulance rolled into view. The driver backed up, hopped the curb and pulled back as far as the barricades allowed. Gunshots kept people pinned down where they were. Bullets shattered the ambulance windows.

“How did you know he was going to keep...keep shooting?” she asked. She was getting more and more lightheaded and her limbs had started tingling. Hell, her whole body tingled.

“I saw him move.” He tied a knot against her arm and she gasped. “Sorry,” he said.

She was going to die. She felt it in that second, the way her body wouldn’t respond, the way her nerve endings snapped like popcorn in the microwave, and in the moisture pooling against her back and arm that represented the blood escaping her body. She didn’t want to die with a stranger.

“My name’s Julie,” she whispered.

He met her gaze briefly. “Hi, Julie. I’m Troy.” He looked like a Troy. Strong and solid. A man in charge. Right now, he wasn’t paying much attention to her. He kept scanning the whole area, looking, assessing.

“Nice to meet—” she hissed at a sudden stab of pain in her arm, “—you. Do you think the police will get him?” she asked.

He brushed some hair off her cheek, his gaze once again connecting with hers, his eyes loaded with concern. “Not quickly enough,” he told her. “You needed an ambulance five minutes ago.”

She nodded, appreciated his candor. It was bad. Really, really bad. She’d played a scene like this. Funny how she hadn’t seen Trace in years and on the night they were set to be together publicly something like this should happen. Something that would vaguely mirror not only Trace’s life, but also Julie’s in that she’d reenacted the same scene. How odd that reality had become fiction...had become reality. Julie accepted the inevitable. Her mother would be set financially so she wouldn’t have to worry about that. But still... Tears welled up and her eyes stung, her chest constricted. “Troy, can you please tell my mother...I love her.”

His dark eyes settled on her, serious and solemn. “No can do, sweetheart. You’re going to have to tell her yourself. We’re going to make a run for it.”

She shook her head and a tear trickled into her hair. “I don’t think I can.”

“Leave it to me. I’ve got you.” Gently he lifted her, but nothing stopped the pain that ripped through her and stole her breath. “Hang in there, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

* * *

Troy Mills never expected the night to break down this way. Tonight should’ve been simple. Working undercover, playing bodyguard to a dirtbag producer cheating on his wife shouldn’t have entailed getting shot at. It shouldn’t have him stripping off the rented six-hundred-dollar tuxedo to keep Julie Fraser from bleeding out on the red carpet.

Yet, that’s what was happening. If he didn’t get her to the ambulance twenty yards away, she was as good as dead. Never in his wildest imagination had he thought he’d meet Julie Fraser, much less hold her in his arms as she died. But that was happening too. The bullets had stopped so maybe the police had snagged the shooter. He had no way of knowing. The only definite was Julie in his arms breathing her last breath unless he did something about it.

He knew the second those bullets hit her that she wasn’t going to make it without immediate medical attention. 911 would be swamped, so in the two minutes before the shooter moved, he’d called a contact at the police station and made sure the attending ambulance pulled up as close to the barricades as possible. Better put a SWAT team member at the wheel while they were at it because this was definitely going to be a hazardous duty call.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he said in her ear. Her sweet perfume filled his head. She smelled expensive. The fact that she thought he’d meant for her to make a run for it almost made him smile. “We’re going to make this fast and clean.” At least he sure as hell hoped so.

With a last deep breath, Troy hefted her closer to his chest and started running. As soon as he